


Pose as a friend, work as a spy

by Dorthea



Series: What if... Natasha recruited Spider-man? [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Black Widow (Movie 2020), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Awesome Natasha Romanov, Awesome Phil Coulson, BAMF Natasha Romanov, BAMF Peter Parker, BAMF Phil Coulson, Bonding, Comfort, Comic Book Science, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, First Love, Genius Peter Parker, Leo Fitz & Jemma Simmons Friendship, Lies, Love at First Sight, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, POV Natasha Romanov, POV Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker has PTSD, Peter Parker is 17, Peter Parker is a Mess, Phil Coulson & Melinda May Friendship, Phil Coulson & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Phil Coulson Has the Patience of a Saint, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Grant Ward, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Phil Coulson, Protective Skye | Daisy Johnson, SHIELD, SHIELD 616 | The Bus, Skye | Daisy Johnson Needs a Hug, Spidey Sense (Marvel), Spidey Sense Fail (Marvel), Team Bonding, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:47:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29900619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorthea/pseuds/Dorthea
Summary: “What do you know about your parents Mr. Parker?” Coulson asks friendly, learning forward in his chair, getting close to Peter, and rest his elbows on his desk.“I… I don’t really remember them, sir” Peter replies, “I mean. I know about the accident, about the plane crash. But I don’t remember them, or who they were”.Coulson nods distantly, “I’m sorry for your lose” he starts out, and Peter wants to shake him off. Let him know that it’s really all okay, that it’s in the past and… and that he doesn’t need that reminder. “I worked closely with them during my early days at shield. Great agents”.***In a world where Natasha recruits Peter Parker instead of Tony, Peter meets the team onboard the so called 'bus' on his way to Berlin in Germany. That's... bound to be interesting? It's also bound to go horribly wrong.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker/Skye | Daisy Johnson, Phil Coulson & Peter Parker
Series: What if... Natasha recruited Spider-man? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2078820
Comments: 43
Kudos: 56





	1. Flying or falling, it’s up to you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bbblaney77](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bbblaney77/gifts).



> A small thanks to Bbblaney77 who has helped me, plan the outline for this story :)
> 
> Soooo... I started watching agents of shield in december, and I'm like only two seasons in at this point in time. But I got the idea for this story, and was like, yes, that's what we're doing. So... Technically, it takes place during early season 2. So, the main part of whole the hydra thing has happened, but in this version, things has played out a little differently. And so, Grant Ward was never revealed to be a hydra agent in this alternate universe. Skye, doesn't have her powers yet, and Fitz where never in that accident that left his brain broken, and Simmons never left to go undercover with hydra. But the hydra thing, did still happen.  
> Also, Peter is aged up to 17. While Skye is aged down to 19.

Natasha tightens the grip around the steering, doing everything in her power to make sure the quinjet stay on course. The wind and turbulence is making it hard, and as the plane shakes, she can sense Peter getting more and more panicked.  
  
There’s really - and Natasha means that - nothing to be scared of. But can she really blame the… kid? Kid works. She isn’t all that much into nicknames, but nayk and kid works.  
  
She watches out of the corner of her eye as is Peter once again switching position. Now pushing her weight onto his feet, head and torso leaned over, hands over his neck. His skin pale and sweaty. And Natasha has to curse herself, that she didn’t think of bring a bucket for him to throw up in should it be needed. The kid’s parents died in a plane crash after all. This, this all made sense.  
  
“You know” Natasha nodes him with her foot, but doesn’t take her eyes from the sky in front of them, “It’s easier to get through if you look outside”. She has always loved watching the sun shinning down on the puffy white clouds. Sure, it’s windy. But that doesn’t take away from the amazing beaty in the air. That peace Natasha finds up here. A kind of peace she can’t get anywhere else. And it’s totally worth it.  
  
Peter, with careful movement look’s up and out too. His breath shaking and his eye’s red of puffy. The remains of tears leaving shiny tracks down his cheeks.  
  
“I hate flying. I don’t like planes. I get really anxious” Peter shakes his head, “Why did I say yes to this. Why did I say yes to this? Really, Mrs. Widow, why did I say yes to this?”.  
  
Natasha can’t help but chuckles slightly. This kid, he’s got manners. He’s a tiny version of Steve, but with Tony’s genius brain, all placed into a 15-year-old with Spider powers. That looks more like a stick than a superhero. But Natasha knows not to judge of book by it’s covers, this kid can do impressive things. Natasha doesn’t need to be a genius to see that. “Naky, just call me Natasha. Mrs. Widow makes me sound so old”.  
  
Peter blushes, slowly forgetting about the fear of the plane as Natasha keeps talking. As the conversation get’s going. A good distraction. “But-“.  
  
“If you about to tell me ‘But you’re the black widow’, I’d like to point out that we’re the same. No need for formalities, because we’re together in this. You can call me Natasha, or Nat if you want. Calling people by their first name gives a sense of trust before we go into a battle”.  
  
“We’re the same?” Peter sounds so unsure as he questions it, “I’m sorry Mrs-“ he shakes his head, “Natasha, you’re the black widow. You one of the most power heroes out there. I’m just a kid, who’s scared of planes and flying. And what if I’m not good enough? And what if we fail? What if somebody get’s hurt in the battlefield? And-“.  
  
Natasha shakes her head, “If I didn’t think you could do it, I wouldn’t have recruited you”.  
  
At Natasha words a strong gust of wind pulls the plane out of her control, for only a moment. The plane tilting sharpy to the side before the autopilot sinks in and adds more power to the lower wing. Balancing the jet midair.  
  
Peter whimpers quietly, his hands fidgeting as he heaves for air. As he looks more and more sick for every passing second. And Natasha makes a choice, pulling on a headset, adjusting the microphone in front of her mouth and calls. “Quinjet 337 here. We’re experiencing a lot of turbulence up here. On our way to Berlin, Germany. Can we meet up?”.  
  
A red button blinks a few times, before coming to a halt. The message sent out to all fellow shield owned planes.  
  
“Meet up?” Peter sounds confused, “You can’t meet up with anybody while you’re in the air”.  
  
“We can actually. The Quinjet is created for speed, not stability. It’s light and is therefore affected a lot by wind. Other planes shield owns are created for stability, not for speed” she starts to explain, “If we can meet up with one of them, we can land in their docking station”.  
  
“That doesn’t sound all that pleasant” Peter mutters under his breaths and leans forward once again. Focusing on his breathing. “Not pleasant at all”.  
  
Natasha sighs and let’s the autopilot get full control, as she let’s the headset rest on the armrest of the pilot seat. Getting to her feat, with ease making it towards a nearby medical kit. Peter watching her with awe, as she takes step by step without any trouble. Ballet and core balance really had helped her out when she had to learn this, but it had still taken lots of practice.  
  
It’s with a steady hand she pulls the medical kit open, to search through it. Hoping to find a plastic back of some sort. It’s the kind of thing that would, well, just make sense to have on a plane.  
  
And Shield planes has everything anyone could ever need. So…  
  
It’s with relative ease that she pulls out a small bag, specifically made for throw up. A small plastic ring at the top, keeping it open. The med kit falls shut with a slight thud as Natasha turns around. Stretching her arm out to Peter with the plastic. Watching as Peter, with gratefulness takes it and holds it up under his mouth. Breathing hard.  
  
She let’s herself slump back into the piolet seat. Not caring the take control back, the autopilot doing a great and steady job of flying the jet. There are no reasons to break the moment of peace.  
  
Peace before the storm really. Though she hopes to keep it at a storm, and not a tornado. She doubts that will actually be possible. That doesn’t mean she can’t dream. She hopes the team can stay together. That things can be sorted out. That everything will be okay in the long run.  
  
“Can I ask you something?” Peter voice is small and a little held back. But Natasha nods carefully with a smile, as Peter goes on. “What did you tell Aunt May? Because I mean, she’s not stupid. And if the story doesn’t make sense, she might figure out I’m spider-man. And…” Peter shrugs, “You know, secret identity and all. She’d never let me go out again”.  
  
“Have you heard about the security leak from Shield and handful of months ago?” Natasha asks, studying Peter. Most people had. Then again, most people still thought shield where the bad guys. Working together with hydra, when in reality, they were fighting against them.  
  
But Peter nods with confident. He’s mouth shut in a tight thin line. “Your uncle’s case was investigated by shield. At least, we were in over it. Said you name had been leaked together with a bunch of extra information. We just, wanted to keep you safe till said leak could be fixed”. It’s a lie. She isn’t quite sure if Peter’s ready to hear about his parents. It’s a lot to take in. A 17-year-old shouldn’t have to deal with that. And even if a 17-year-old should have to deal with that, Natasha isn’t sure she’d the right person to tell him about it.  
  
Peter looks at Natasha for a moment, curiosity on his face, his brow raised. “But…” Peter seems to think about the right words, the right way to ask, “Why was shield over Ben’s case?”.  
  
Natasha shrugs, “You don’t have the clearance to know that. But, if everything goes well, I guess we can talk about it later”.  
  
Other gust of wind sends shivers down Peter’s spin, his cheeks turning slightly green. And Natasha knows that soon enough, Peter won’t be able to hold it. It pains her, knowing that the young boy is suffering. Scared out of his mind, panicked and stressed.  
  
Natasha rest’s a hand on Peter’s shoulder, “It’s okay, kid. It’s okay”. And with that Peter finally let’s go of what Natasha assume is his lunch. Curling tightly over the plastic bag, heaving in the small breaks he get’s between rounds of vomit. The bitter smell fills the cockpit, but Natasha really doesn’t mind. She’s seen agents, much older and stronger than Peter have not just panic attacks in the air, but having thrown up as well. Though, she does hope that Peter feels better soon.  
  
A small tone from the headset on the armrest, makes Peter’s head snap up as Natasha once more places it over her ears. The soft voice of Melinda May greats her, “CXD 23215 here, what’s status?”.  
  
“Agent May” Natasha greats with a smile, “Agent Romanoff here, together with special adviser Spider-man. We’re on our way to Berlin, to help capture the rough Avengers but is experience some turbulence. It’s… uhm…” Natasha watches to the side, as Peter finally seems to have emptied his stomach completely, but still heaving over the thin plastic bag. “It’s rough for some of us. Can you maybe help out?”.  
  
She can distantly hear a muffled conversation in the background, before a small GPS signal pops up on the screen in the control panel, the autopilot trailing them and laying out a path for them to follow that allows for a somewhat smooth rise. The designation S.H.I.E.L.D. 6-1-6 making Natasha relax just a little. “we’re ready for meet up, let us know when you’re in our general vicinity”.

***

Peter stares with awe out of the window, as Natasha confirms with whoever she’s talking to, that their ready for landing. He still feels incredibly ill, and the small of vomit if annoying his enhanced sense quite a bit, but it’s gotten better. He feels a little less dizzy, he can breathe a little easier, as he no longer feels the need to throw up. And the view…  
  
The view is, well, amazing. The soft clouds look almost like cotton candy. Like a pillow. And if it weren’t for the fact that Peter was smart, of knew that clouds was just water in it’s gas form, he might be tricked to believe it was soft. It looked so soft floating there, beneath them.  
  
But the other plane, just a few hundred meters in front of them, a little below, really made Peter’s mouth gape as he watched it.  
  
The Boeing C-17 Globemaster III, was a US military plane. It had been in use from about 1970s to early 1980s, if Peter recalled his history classes correctly. But he knew a handful was still in use.  
  
But looking in more detail, Peter knew this specific one of them had been modified. Another set of wings, smaller and with an engine each was placed at the very back of the aircraft, where on the original model there definitely hadn’t been anything. The usually light gray paint had been replaced with an almost completely black surface, but with the shield logo painted in a slightly lighter color over the back, going over both the wings. And now that he was here, able to see it from above Peter understood a little better what Natasha had meant with landing on it. As small bumps, that Peter was pretty sure was a type of magnetic lock, was placed on the surface of the ship too. Allowing for jet and smaller planes to land on it with ease.  
  
And that was just on the outside! Peter had to reminded himself for a second, that this was shield. That the inside was likely even more customized. And the weapons… that was bound to be… eh… Peter didn’t really know what kind of firepower shield might have.  
  
“Impressed?” Natasha voice pulls him out of his thoughts, as he looks to her with a small smile and nods. “A shame the cloaking isn’t on, that would probably have melted your little nerdy brain”.  
  
“Wait” Peter stop putting a hand in the air, pointing to the plane, “You’re telling me that plane can become invisible?!”. Peter looks out the window, “That technology is supposed to be hypothetical, though I mean, scientist is trying to bend light around objects using artificial materials known as metamaterials, but… but…” Peter shakes his head, “If this is real cloaking, it means shield has figure out how to partially or wholly make things invisible on the electromagnetic spectrum”.  
  
Natasha chuckles lightly from the side, as the autopilot starts bringing them down towards the plane. “Nayk, I have no idea what you just said”.  
  
Peter let’s himself lean back into the chair, with an apologetic smile on his face. He rambles too much; he hears that all the time. But he can’t always help it. He’s a nerd.  
  
“Sorry I…” Peter shrugs “It’s just so cool”.  
  
Natasha nods, “No need to apologize kid. There’s nothing wrong with being smart”. Natasha looks over the controls, as the jet slowly drops. Getting closer and closer to landing. “You know” she shrugs, “I’m pretty sure they have a lab onboard if you want to play with some tech”.  
  
They jet comes down in front of the end tail of the bigger plane. Hovering carefully above the black paint for a handful of seconds, before it moves the last few meters forward and down. Landing carefully in a small curve. It’s relatively smooth compared to rest of the flight they’ve just been through, and as Peter’s senses picks up the small, automated click that confirms the planes are now securely connected, he finally let’s his shoulder drop. His body finally allowing him to relax, even if they’re still in the air. The bigger plane, Peter can already tell, doesn’t get effected by the wind in the same way as the jet had.  
  
Natasha helps Peter to his feet, placing a steady hand on his shoulder as she guides him towards an opening in the back of the jet, allowing them direct access to the plane below.  
  
He finds himself, almost stumbling as he takes the first few steps down the stairs. His spidey-sense suddenly, and unprompted vibrating in the base of his neck. A slightly warning. His hand clasping around the cold, metal railing. Breathing hard as he steadies himself. Natasha sending him one, short, worried look, before he takes a few more steps down, shaking off the warning call from his senses, into what Peter thinks is a lounge area. A few couches here and there, in white leather. A few tables, and a bar.  
  
It’s not really what he expects. But then again, what had he expected?  
  
Natasha steps down by his side, giving him a reassuring smile, before she moves to great the two people coming from the other end of the plane. The cockpit probably.  
  
One of them, a man, probably of slightly older age, is wearing a full suit. A gun is carried at his side, the small weapon hidden just beneath the edge of his jacket. His bold, but… Peter doesn’t think it’s because he’s that old. It seems more like a choice, a style if you may. And his eyes are soft as he greats Natasha and moves towards Peter, a hand outstretched. “Agent Phil Coulson” he introduces, “You must be Mr. Parker”. Peter nods, a small stone placing itself in his throat. As he attempts to hold his strength back, the handshakes weak and shaky. Unsteady.  
  
The other, a woman, somewhat older than Natasha. But probably able to go for being much younger than she actually is. Her long, black hair hands around her face, framing her stiff features. Her cold eyes. The darkness. The… sorrow? “Melinda May” she greats, voice low.  
  
Peter let’s his eyes rest on the floor, at the very tip of his converse shoes. The seams breaking. He doesn’t know these people, and for a moment his stomach twist around itself dangerously. Making Peter, almost unconsciously, move a little closer to Natasha.  
  
The young woman sensing his unease wraps an arm around his shoulder, over his back. Pulling him towards her side, as she starts explaining who Melinda and Coulson is.  
  
Peter doesn’t really hear it. His eyes flickering around the room, attempting to find a focus point.  
  
His spidey-sense vibrating a little louder, as he eyes lands on a young man watching from a distance. His dark hair filled with hair jell, and a thin beard. His eyes cold, colder than those of Melinda. A twitch, creepy smile on his face.  
  
He makes the hair on Peter’s arms stand up tall, a silent voice telling him to run.  
  
Get out of here.  
  
But there’s nowhere to run to. As he, unwillingly stumbles a step backwards, as the man takes a step forward. Joining the other shield agents. Natasha’s arm slips from around him, as he loses his balance, falling backwards and landing on his ass with a small thud.  
  
His head feels fuggy, a dizziness sneaking up on him. And his sense’s keeps screaming, a little louder, and then a little louder. The beginning of a headache, beating between his eyes.  
  
And he looks up, a hand stretched out towards him, the cold stern look replaced with one of a happy smiles and softness. “You okay there, Kid?” the man asks with a smiles, and Peter despite knowing better takes his hand gratefully, as he’s helped to his feet. His sense’s screaming even louder, no longer to run but to attack, to defend. “I’m Agent Ward, but you can just call med Grant”.  
  
Peter sighs deeply, pressing a hand against his aching head.  
  
Something tells him, this isn’t going to go well.


	2. Nostalgia is a seductive liar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That... became longer than I planned it to. Oh well, whatever :)

“Don’t you think it sounds a little…” Peter shrugs half-heartedly as he reads about James Barns, the Winter Soldier on a Shield Ipad in the briefing room, “… Fishy?”. They been sitting there, Agent May, Coulson, Natasha and Peter himself for almost an hour. Discussion possible strategy to not just make the roughs stand down, but also in case a fight should occur. Keep your distance, web them up seemed simple enough, it made sense and go for his legs too seemed, at least somewhat like decent ideas and plans. Even if he probably could rival Captain America in raw strength, the ex-military part of him was probably way better at tactics than Peter. He could lose on that.  
  
Agent May sends him a weird look that, without words clearly shows she wishes he’d just shut up. Peter isn't very good at shutting up, though. And so, he keeps going. “I mean” Peter let’s the Ipad drop to the table, “If I was an ex-assassin that wanted to stay hidden, I wouldn’t go blow something up unless I absolutely had to. It seems… set up, I guess? Fake”.  
  
“You’ve got no idea how Hydra operates kid. You’ve got no idea what their capable of” Agent May responds with a snare that sends shivers down Peter’s spine, “They aren’t known to always do the most logical thing, and this” she points to a video of the bombing, “This has hydra written all over it. There’s nothing fake or set up about it. The Winter Soldier is a cold-blooded killer”.  
  
“I…” Peter shakes his head, and pushes himself away from the screen table, holo-table? Pashing back and forth. “I’m not saying he’s innocent” Peter states, “I’m just saying there’s got to be more to the story. A missing piece, somewhere in whole this… mess”. He rubs the back of his neck, begging the vibrations that his spidey-sense sends out through his body to stop, leave him alone. “I… I’ve got this feeling that something just, isn’t right. Though that might just be the fact that we’re in a flying deathtrap over the Atlantic Ocean”. He stops, leaning against one of the glass walls and let himself slide down to the ground. Pulling his knees to his chest, resting his head on his arms. Sighing deeply.  
  
Agent May steps forward, a dark look in her eyes that makes Peter want to get out of there. Off the plane. Back to his apartment in Queens. But as May opens her mouth to speak again, Coulson cuts her arm, an arm in front of her preventing her from getting any closer to Peter.  
  
“Mr. Parker has a point” he states, like Peter isn’t some total noob, “Hydra has caught us off guard before. Infiltrating shield for over seventy years. We can’t let that happen again”.  
  
Agent May’s eyes flicker between Coulson and Peter, “Are you doubting my judgement, sir?”.  
  
“Not in the slightly, May. But Natasha thinks he’s got potential” he looks to the redhead, who so far has been quiet in their conversation, but she nods, “Therefor, the least we can do it listen to what he has to say. Sometimes it’s good to have a secondary perspective”.  
  
“Coulson” May’s tone is impatient and frustrated, but her stand and her face gives nothing away, “There a lot more to this than the boy understands”.  
  
At that, Natasha finally moves closer, placing herself between Coulson and May. “That’s why we’re here. To make sure he does understand, to make sure he knows that he’s going into. And if it isn’t too much trouble, maybe we should get this over with. There’s still a lot to discuss”.  
  
May sighs, but nods and slowly starts moving towards the exit, letting the automated doors open for her, and close behind her, as she leaves towards what Peter guesses to be the cockpit.  
  
The air in the room become significantly lighter, and for a moment Peter wonders if it might be Agent May that’s triggering his Spidey-sense. But despite her emotionless features, and her sharp personality, Peter doesn’t really think she’s all that dangerous. At least, not currently.  
  
Though, he doesn’t doubt that she could kill just as easily as James Barnes could.  
  
For now, he just takes a deep breath, allowing himself to relax for just a moment. Leaning his head against the cold glass wall. The headache, feeling just a little less intense than it had done.  
  
“There’s something else we need to talk about” Natasha says directly to Peter, who doesn’t make a move to get back to his feet. Though neither of the adults seems to mind it. “We need to figure out what to do about you, and the accords”.  
  
Peter sighs deeply. He’d known this was coming, saying yes to helping would mean that he’d have to sign. The legal part of the accords demanded that from him. And while, he wasn’t keen on letting his secret identity be known to anyone, at least it would be somewhat safe with the government. Right? Or maybe, possibly, not at all. But did he really have a choice.  
  
“There’s no getting around whole the, revealing my secret identity is there?” Peter asks quietly.  
  
Natasha looks to Coulson who nods “Actually…”, the agent starts scrolling through something on his own tablet as he starts explaining. “You are an individual can’t get around it, yet. The accords still needs adjustment, which will come over, what… the next few months. But shield has already worked on a compromised version of the accords, that Thaddeus Ross has deemed okay for now”. Coulson turns his tablet to Peter so he can see the screen, “It would mean you’d have to be registered on the index, and at the very least be a… hm… adviser for shield. But it would allow us to hide your identity for anyone below level seven”.  
  
It’s… not quite the answer Peter expects. It’s not a bad option, and he doubts Coulson would recommend it unless it was an actually decent option. At least, based on the fact he isn’t currently talking about him, but to him. Like he’s human just as much as Coulson himself.  
  
“And” Natasha adds “If you agree to this, I’m sure Shield would be willing to help find a decent cover story for your late nights out, so your aunt won’t find out about you after school activities”.  
  
He’s going to need more details. He needs to know a little more before he can really say, ‘yes, this is the best option’. But he nods with a tight smile. “Were do I sign?”.

***  
Peter takes a step forward, gaining a good stability on his feet, before he swings in for another attack. Aiming straight for his opponent’s lower chin. Allowing as much force as he possibly can into the punch, without risking that the person in front of him get’s seriously injured.  
  
But Natasha is fast and has clearly trained for years and years. Peter knows that. Is still catches him slightly of guard as she grabs him around his wrist, mid swing. His spidey-sense so focused on… well everything else around him, that it doesn’t registers Natasha as a threat. But Peter won’t let it stop him, as he takes the chance and attempts to hit with his other arm. Though, Natasha has that locked in a tight grip just as easily as the first one. “You’re holding back”. It was a moments like these he was grateful Widow didn’t have her weapons, even if it meant no eb shooter for himself either.  
  
He was also immensely grateful for the tricks Natasha had taught him before they jumped into a training fight. Get your opponent into a vulnerable position is step number one. And while, as first glaze Widow currently has to upper hand, this was all a part of Peter’s plan. Maybe.  
  
Step two is to get your attack out of balance, and so. Peter does the only thing he can, with both his hands mostly paralyzed.  
  
He makes a small jump, attempting to make Widow think he’ll attempt to jump over her. But instead, he dives down, sliding between her legs with as much force and speed he can get without his trusty webs. Twitching his wrists slightly, to make Natasha lose her grip. And as Natasha loses her footing just a tiny bit, Peter pushes himself to his feet behind her, before he with ease places his arms around Natasha neck. “Got ya!”. Ready to pull her backwards towards the ground. Winning.  
  
But of course, it doesn’t quite go that easily. Another of Natasha’s lesson’s singing clearly in his brain don’t ever underestimate your attacker. And so before he can make his own final move, Natasha makes hers. Smoothly and quickly.  
  
Her hands clasps around Peter wrists once again. It isn’t quiet as tight as before, and if Peter had time, he would easily be able to pull them free once more. But Natasha doesn’t allow for an opening like that. Peter isn’t surprised. Natasha had talent and skill. She’s fought for ages, probably longer than Peter has been alive. Peter has barely fought for a year. Only been out there since he was 16, learning everything on his own or from stupid YouTube videos. And secondly, Natasha has already overpowered him four times in the past twenty minutes.  
  
With her grasp around his wrist, everything goes too fast for Peter to do duck shit about it. As Natasha leans forward slightly, bending her knees. And pulls Peter over her shoulder, never letting go of his hands. Not even as he hits down into the blue training mate below them. The air being forced out of Peter’s lungs, as he starts gasping for air.  
  
Natasha counts, her eyes focused. One, and Peter gains his breath back. Two, he desperately attempts to push himself back up, she can’t win again. And three, Natasha placed her foot on his chest shaking her head above him. And he just sighs, nods and stops fighting.  
  
He doesn’t give up. He’ll never give up on attempting to take down the black widow. He gives in, knowing that right now, right here, he won’t be able to win.  
  
Natasha lets her foot slide off Peter’s chest, and let’s go of Peter’s wrists with a smile.  
  
He takes a grateful moment on the floor, just laying on his back. Breathing slowly in through his nose and out through his mouth, as he scans his own body. He’s sore, his muscles aching in a good way that he can’t quiet explain. The adrenaline pumping through his veins, and he fells alive. He feels happy, despite having lost once more. He feels good, despite the knowledge that it’s bound to hurt for a few days. His muscles being used a new, way more effective way.  
  
The light gray shield t-shirt that he’s borrowing, is soaked in sweat across his chest and bag. Making it feel cold and wet against his skin. Sticking to him, worse than his webbing ever could.  
  
And he feels hot. Really hot. Despite the fact, that plane in general leaves him feeling annoyingly cold. In a weird… creepy kind of way, that he can’t really explain. But he thinks it might be the sense that keep vibrating in the back of his neck, despite no threat being nearby.  
  
Peter pushes himself carefully up on his elbows, and future up into a sitting position. Watching Natasha from a distance as she leans down to grab her water bottle. And the final lesson stands clear, caught them of guard.  
  
There’s no rules against dirty tricks in this fight. It’s everything, or nothing.  
  
Peter leans back towards the ground, leaning his hands attempting to mimic a way that Natasha had gotten up during an early fight. Almost getting whole his body into a handstand, before he with his lower arm pushes himself off the ground and allows himself to twist in the air landing with one knee bent to the side, the other one stretched out slightly backwards, and his one hand in front gaining him a little balance. It’s easy enough to pull off without knowing everything about how to do it, he thanks his enhanced strength an agility for that.  
  
And then he charges towards her, one hand pulling her around to face him while the second hand pushes her backwards towards the cold metal wall. A loud thud echoing on impact. As Peter’s hand rests against Natasha throat. Natasha’s eyes doesn’t widen, no panic on her face. But under her breath she mutters “Cheater”, probably forgetting that Peter can hear her.  
  
“A fight never fair” Peter points out with a smile.  
  
Counting inside his head, one, two and… but Natasha twist in his hold, and forces him to let go. Giving her the opening needed to push him against the wall.  
  
The rolls turning around. But Natasha chuckles at him and let’s go. “You’re getting better”.  
  
The water bottle Natasha had picked up is now rolling across the floor, but Natasha pushes it light with her foot towards Peter who, with the same ease flips it in the air and catches it with a solid grip. As Natasha grasp another bottle for herself. “Thanks!”, Peter grins excitedly. “I would have gotten you if I had my web shooters”.  
  
“You said that last round too” Natasha says, nudging him with her foot pointing to the bottle, “Drink up. You need it. Wouldn’t want you passing out”.  
  
Peter nods, slowly twitching the bottlecap and let’s the cold-water flow into his mouth. Down his throat in one, long drink. Letting it cool his body down, as he finally calms. For real this time. The adrenaline level dropping. And a want to drop in one of the upstairs couches.  
  
“If you two are done with training” the voice catches Peter of guards as he spins towards the stairs, as Coulson comes down, “Could I borrow Mr. Parker for a moment?”.  
  
“What do you Nayk?” Natasha looks to Peter with a professional face this time around, her demure changing drastically as Coulson enters the room. And Peter isn’t quiet sure if it’s an act or real respect “Want revenge or are we calling it quits?”.  
  
Peter sighs and pulls the drenched t-shirt over his head, letting it fall to the ground as he pulls his own t-shirt over his necked body, the science pun colorful in the middle of his chest where two atoms talk. The red one saying, ‘Stupid electrons!’ with the yellow one responding ‘I’m sick of your negativity’. “You own me a fight” Peter responds, before nodding to Coulson.  
  
“Agent Romanoff, we’re having a meeting in my office in half an hour. I expect you to be there” Coulson says directly to Natasha before he waves to Peter to follow him, as he makes it up the stairs again. Peter hot on his heels, with quick steps thudding against the metal. Before they turn towards the end of the plane, and into what Peter can only describe as being a very luxurious office, that… totally does not fit in to whole the ex-military plane wipe that, well most the plane doesn’t really fit that anyways.  
  
The dark wooden office table, and matching shelfs honestly made for a pretty cool room. The old lamps with metal that was painted golden, but which had long ago become faded and old. It all, felt pretty vintage, while still having it’s place in the modern world that Peter knew.  
  
But while the room and decorations themselves might fit in today’s world, the objects neatly placed all over the place didn’t. Like… that old book collection that Peter didn’t recognize. The Walkie-Talkie Wristwatch made in Poland where only twenty where ever made, not that Peter really knew anything about that, but Ben had told him about it once his uncle being interested in history back before… everything. The miniature model of the very plane he was currently on rested on the front of the desk, perfect to the small detail. And…  
  
And really, it was quite impressive.  
  
And then of course, as an added bonus there was all the technology. The screen in the world near the entrance. What Peter recognized as a high tech military laptop too on the desk.  
  
Peter might have been more interested in that, they anything else on the plane. All the damn tech.  
  
“Have you ever collected anything?” Coulson voice is low, but at the same time friendly and soft. Inviting Peter into this world of, he wasn’t sure… this world of Phil Coulson. A person he didn’t really know, a person who seemed so closed off… and, and here Peter was, allowed inside the literally brain of a man he didn’t really know. And he didn’t really know him either.  
  
Peter shrugs, because… maybe seems like such a stupid answer. “I… I guess. Nothing as impressive as yours, but I do…” Peter feels like a stupid stuttery kid as he says it out loud, “I collect lego”.  
  
Coulson nods and smiles, not seemingly minding the stupid answer that Peter gives. Maybe he’d not really listened. Or maybe, he hadn’t really cared. Or maybe… or maybe, or maybe.  
  
The man lets himself slide down into his office chair behind the desk, pointing Peter to a small chair in the front of the desk where he let’s himself sink into the soft fabric underneath him. As he watches Coulson pull out a drawer and pulls something out. A small object, or rather, a collection of small objects.  
  
He places them carefully out on the table, the small objects showing to be cards. Or, more correctly Captain America trading cards from way back then, when Steve Rogers had just been transformed. And was the worlds first superhuman.  
  
Peter leaned slightly forward studying the cards faded colors. The red and blue still stood bright, but the paper was clearly yellowing and old. But for their age, they were in relatively good condition. If he didn’t look at the large red blood stains that covered the cards. Leaving him to wonder, just a little somewhere in the back of his mind, who had gotten hurt, and what might have happened to get them hurt.  
  
As it turns out Peter doesn’t even need to ask. Or to speak out loud.  
  
“It was quite a shame that my blood came on it during the battle” Coulson stated, “But I also wonder how the world might look today, if Fury hadn’t ruined them” the man took a small break, breathing deeply before he went on. “I expect you too keep it a secret I’m still alive. Natasha down there, she’s the only Avenger that knows. It stays that way”.  
  
Peter looks up, meeting Coulson’s eyes and nods sharply. “Of course, s-sir”.  
  
Coulson hums quietly, leaning back in his chair. Hands bound together. “Your did well against Natasha during training”.  
  
Peter shrugs, “I… I lost five times, Mr. Coulson”.  
  
“Sure you did” Coulson nods “But you kept going even when it seemed like you couldn’t keep up. And Natasha has got years of practice. There’s no shame in losing to her” he says it all so kindly. A deep fondness in his voice that Peter doesn’t quite understand, like he knows something that Peter doesn’t. And Coulson’s eyes resting on him like that, it doesn’t make him uncomfortable per say, but it does raise questions. Questions that Peter doesn’t have answers too.  
  
Peter isn’t sure how long they sit there, in the silence. But it feels like hours, despite it only being maybe a few minutes. It can’t have been that long… right?  
  
“What do you know about your parents Mr. Parker?” Coulson asks friendly, learning forward in his chair, getting close to Peter, and rest his elbows on his desk.  
  
It’s, a weird question. Peter doesn’t, really remember them all that well. He can’t recall what they looked like, or sounded like anymore, haven’t been able to in a long time. Most pictures are gone, and most of their items and objects that meant something has too been discarded or, disappeared. He knows they where scientists, working for some big company but he can’t recall the name. He isn’t sure he’s ever heard the name, honestly.  
  
He remembers asking Ben about them once, about their work. Remembers how distant Ben as seemed as he answered that he didn’t really know. And back then, Peter had been to small to understand the deep look in Ben’s eyes that now would have made it clear that he lied.  
  
And now that he knows, it’s far to late to ask. Because Ben is gun. His blood in Peter’s hands.  
  
So, yeah. Peter knows nothing about the people who gave birth to him. Nothing but names.  
  
“I… I don’t really remember them, sir” Peter replies, “I mean. I know about the accident, about the plane crash. But I don’t remember them, or who they were”.  
  
Coulson nods distantly, “I’m sorry for your lose” he starts out, and Peter wants to shake him off. Let him know that it’s really all okay, that it’s in the past and… and that he doesn’t need that reminder. “I worked closely with them during my early days at shield. Great agents”.  
  
And that… that catches Peter of guard. Forces the air out of his lungs like Natasha attack, only this time it’s mentally and not physically. As he stars into Coulson’s eyes with, curiosity.  
  
“Great scientists” Coulson explains, “Even better in the field. Willing to give their own life’s to save others, even when they knew you where coming. Took Fury months to get Mary to back down, but she didn’t. Not until she almost lost you during a battle. Saved my life to a few times”.  
  
“My… my parents worked with shield?” Peter whispers it, because he thinks he already knows the answer to the question. Think’s he already knows that every word Coulson says is true. But he doesn’t quite believe what he’s being told. This man, this stranger knowing more about Peter’s parents then Peter himself. And… and more than Ben had known. Or maybe, Ben had known but kept it from Peter. “Is that… why shield where investigating Ben’s murder?” with the question Coulson brow raises and so Peter goes on, “Natasha told me earlier”.  
  
Coulson just nods, before he pulls something else out his drawer. Pushing the cards aside, “Their last mission where to infiltrate the Algerian spy ring, controlled by hydra. Somewhere figure out they where double agents though, one of their agents Finisher shot their plane down overseas. Got them framed for treason against the US. Shield fought their case, though their bodies where never found” Coulson places the small objects on the table before pushing it towards Peter. “I found this in storage. It’s one of the few things that were recovered from the plane. I think you should have it”.  
  
It’s your typical neckless pendant, the small round shape hollow allowing for meaningful pictures. And as Peter carefully opens it, he finds something he, well, he should expect it. But he doesn’t. Because there, in each side is old pictures clearly effected by water as the color is faded. But looking back at him, wearing an old fashion shield uniform, is his parents. His mothers red long hair, and his father’s soft eyes. And… and Peter lets his fingers run over the silver. Feels the slight texture on the front and the smooth area on the back. As he tightens his grasp around it, a tear falling from his face and down onto the picture of his mom.  
  
Those are faces he hasn’t seen in a such a long time.  
  
And Peter… Peter wants to cry.  
  
Nobody needs to know about the hug he’s pulled into by Coulson before they leave his office. Before they make their way down, for Peter to see the lab. Or how there might be tear stains on Coulson’s right shoulder, so he’s forced to switch to a different jacket before they leave.  
  
He appreciates it, when Natasha doesn’t comment on the oversized, dark blue shield hoodie, he’s wearing over his t-shirt, the Coulson insisted Peter should have. ‘Your one of us now, really always has been’ leaving his mouth. Providing a soft comfort over his shoulders, as he let’s his hands hide in the hoodie sleeves and breaths. The pendent deep in his jeans pocket.  
  
And Peter doesn’t quite remember his parents. But now he knows, at least just a bit more about them. And he hopes, deep down somewhere, that he’s made them proud.  
  
And maybe, he wonders just a little, if he’s got his good heart from them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck at writing fighting scenes, so this is like my best attempt so far. I hope it didn't suck completely.


	3. With great power comes… something?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, Peter is aged up to 17, Skye down to 19. It's really not weird, I promise.
> 
> Secondly. The chemicals mentioned is taken from the web fluid recipe that you see during the homecoming movie. But please, don't take that to mean this is correct to science. It's not, and some of the chemicals can be extremely dangerous alone, and even more so combined. They will not make anything that looks the slightly like a web fluid. There's a reason the tag "comic book science" is used here.

The lab as is turns out, is impressive. It’s not big, hell, it’s maybe half the size of a typical classroom at midtown high. But the tech, the design, it’s… it’s amazing.  
  
The very front of the lab is connected to the hanger where Natasha and Peter had been training earlier, though at the time Peter had been too busy being beat up to get a look at what was happening around him. Meaning that, he somehow missed a complete glass wall with sliding doors to his side.  
  
There’s a rolling table in the very middle of the lab. There’s a bright light under it, making the surface stand completely white. But despite there currently standing a large arrangement of some pretty cool work in progress technology, that Peter can’t exactly tell what is, he can smell the death that hangs around the table too. If he looks at the table for too long, he can almost see the dead pale body, laying on it’s back. A thin covered placed over it.  
  
In each side of the lab, there runs more tables. These, more like kitchen counters. And around, halfway up on each side, they bend and allows for even more table space in the middle of the lab.  
  
Chemicals standing in perfect lines against the wall and on shelfs. And Peter wonders if it ever falls down when they fly. It seems, a little dangerous. Really.  
  
And in the back of the lab, is a holo-table. A real holo-table. The blue and light green holo-grams floating in the air, as 3D objects that can be pulled apart like the real deal and can be put together just as easily. With just a swipe of a hand, or the touch of a finger is all changes.  
  
And then, of course to top everything up, because this plane seems to do that all the time. A large monitor is built into the back wall.  
  
To most teens, getting on the shield plane, meeting Black Widow would make their day.  
  
It did for Peter too.  
  
But for him, as a joiner, 3ed year, at midtown high school of science and technology, the lab is the icing on the cake. It’s impressive. It’s… it’s a dream come true. And Peter’s fingers itch to get to play around with, at least some of the stuff.  
  
The gun left discarded at one of the tables - that does not shot bullets, at least it doesn’t look like a bullet to Peter - he probably won’t touch. And that golden half right that - is that a piece of Asgardian armor? Seriously? - he’ll probably stay away from that too.  
  
Huddled over the Holo-table is two, pretty young scientist. A girl that Coulson had called Jemma and a boy, probably a little older than the girl, that Coulson had called Fitz.  
  
Fitz, Peter would really love to know who’d name their kid that. Cause, if he weren’t completely wrong, the last he’d done some late-night googling and ended up on the weirder side of the interest, he’d stumbled upon that name. So really, the question wasn’t, ‘who names their kid Fitz’ but more like… ‘Who names their kid Son of’. It was, strange.  
  
Coulson had left after the short introduction, going for his meeting with the others. And had then left Peter alone, with Jemma and Fitz. Both of whom seemed way to focused on whatever project they were currently working on to bear Peter any mind.  
  
Or maybe they just didn’t trust him.  
  
They head where low over the table, closely stuck together. Talking back and forth in hushed voices. Unaware that Peter could hear every word they said, thanks to his super hearing.  
  
“What’s the chances you can fix the hard-drive Fitz?” Jemma’s voices sounded almost worried as if something, or someone could attack them at any moment, “Those files are important, we need them if we want to be one step ahead of Hydra”.  
  
Watching from a distance, Peter can see the hard drive. The slightly bent and the ripped cable. Fitz sighs as he runs his fingers over it, “If only agents cared about the art of technology, maybe it wouldn’t have been damaged” he unplugs the cable twisting and turning it in his hands, “But, probably a fifty, fifty”.  
  
“Should I ask Skye for help?” Jemma goes on, “She can do impressive things with a computer”.  
  
Fits seems to falter for a moment before he nods, “Probably a good idea”.  
  
“I can help” Peter catches both himself and the others of guard as he speaks. He doesn’t mean to open his mouth, but it happens all on it’s own. “I’m pretty good with tech” he stammers.  
  
Jemma brushes her ponytail to the side and shakes her head. She doesn’t seem mean about it, or rude for that matter, but there’s something in the way she says it… that… well it feels like she doesn’t trust him to know what he’s doing. He can’t blame her. “We prefer to keep this to the professionals. That means our team” she points from herself to Fitz her shrugs. And soon enough Jemma leaves the lab, probably to go find this Skye person.  
  
Fitz, while Jemma seems closed off, is a pretty chill guy. At least, so it seems as he starts playing around with the hard drive, humming quietly to himself.  
  
Peter feels kind of awkward just standing around. He usually feels so at home in a lab, and while this is cool. Honestly amazing! The spidey-sense still playing at the back of his neck, and the fact that he doesn’t know these people, and doesn’t know this lab makes him a little on edge.  
  
A part of him desperately wants to just, go back upstairs and attempt to fall asleep on one of the couches. He feels almost exhausted already, which really shouldn’t surprise him. He’s been awake since early morning, and night is quickly coming along. And if that wasn’t enough, which it really shouldn’t be he’s spider-man after all, the panic attack on the Jet that made him lose his lunch and probably breakfast too, and the emotional moment in Coulson office has drained him.  
  
But he knows that he’ll never be able to actually fall asleep. Even if his sense weren’t killing him, the fact he’s in a plane would probably keep him awake anyways.  
  
He needs a distraction. And what better distraction than to thinker?  
  
And so, he pulls out one of the high lab chairs next to one of the tables, and let’s his backpack drop down on the surface.  
  
Fitz seems distracted, Jemma probably won’t spare him a second though, Skye… whoever she is will probably be busy with her teammates. And rest of the people, maybe except that Grant guy knows about his little secret - does Grant know? Peter isn’t sure. And so, he takes the risk and pulls out his notebook, ‘web fluid’ written in big block letters on the top of the page.  
  
He’s been meaning to attempt making a better version of his web for a while, but with the limited resources at school it hasn’t yet been possible. Having a real lab, if only for a few hours is definitely going to help with that.  
  
Ang so, he goes over the list of stuff he already knows he needs. Stull like Touline C4 H5 CH5. Methanol Ch5 OH. Carbon tetrachloride. H-heptane C2 H6. And so on, so forth. Making his calculations as he goes, figuring out how much of each he’ll need.  
  
He’s been over it about half a dozen times before, but something seems to be missing.  
  
He’s been attempting to purify the web fluid for a while, it’s his best guess to what could possibly make it better. And it’s his first step before he can experiment with different things in the recipe.  
  
“Uhm…” Peter almost feels scared to ask, but he pushes himself up and moves towards Fitz who has now opened the “Fitz right?” the boy looks up from the tables and nods, sending Peter a questioning look. “You guys wouldn’t happen to have any Silica Gel, would you?”.  
  
Peter knows there are better options out there, and simpler too, probably. But Silica Gel is mostly safe to use, and Peter would rather not leave dangerous toxic waste around the city as he swings around. And, if he’s lucky he can get some Silica Gel himself back in New York.  
  
Fitz seems to wonder for a second before he shots up and moves towards one of the storage lockers in the back. “We don’t use that stuff all that often, but it’s possible” Fitz says as he Ramage through one of the shelfs, in his thick accent that bring Peter to think that Fitz might be English. “How much do you need?”.  
  
Peter shrugs moving closer to Fitz watching over his shoulder. “Just like, 10 grams?”.  
  
Fitz nods and pulls something out of a small box, turning towards Peter with a smile. “Don’t think I’ve ever heard about anyone using Silica Gel for anything”.  
  
“I’m trying to purify a…” Peter shrugs “A type of multifunctional glue, and need something non-toxic to do so, that wouldn’t have an adverse reaction with ethyl acetate or sodium tetraborate” he explains in what is probably one of his many rambles about science.  
  
Fitz hums and moves back towards his workspace, “I’m sure Jemma would love to hear about that. She’s in love with biology and Chemistry. I’m more an engineering guy”. Peter just nods and moves back towards his own workspace, sitting down Fitz voice sounds again, “You’re welcome to use anything in here that you might need, just try not to blow up the lab”.  
  
Peter chuckles a small thank you before he moves to starts his work.

***

Jemma returns with, who Peter can only guess to be Skye, 15 minutes later. Her dark brown hair hangs down around her neck, she’s wearing a long sleeve black shirt but has pulled the fabric up to just below her elbows. And held securely to her chest, is a, what Peter guesses to be a pretty expensive laptop that probably store lots and lots of shield secrets.  
  
Skye sends him a welcoming smile, while Jemma looks to him with worry in her eyes, studying his every move.  
  
Peter ignores it. He’d probably do that same if a stranger where mixing chemicals in his lab.  
  
Not that he has a lab, though… Peter does dream about it. Sometimes.  
  
Fitz, who has already disassembled the hard drive and fixed whatever had been broken hands it over to Skye, before himself and Jemma moves along to their next project. Laughing and chattering loudly in the background as Peter tries to focus.  
  
He doesn’t expect Skye to roll and chair over on the opposite side of the table to Peter, plugging in the hard drive and then… to make it even stranger, talk to him. Not like a kid who, should not be on the plane, though that’s exactly what he is. No, she talks to him like any normal person would. Maybe it’s her younger age? Peter is pretty sure she must be the youngest, only a few years older than himself, 19? 20? With Fitz and Jemma being probably 23 or 24 years old.  
  
“Hey” she reaches out a hand cheerfully, “I’m Skye. Nice to meet you”.  
  
Peter let’s go of the glass rod he’s holding, drying of his hands in his jeans before actually greeting Skye in return. “Peter. Peter Parker” and adds “Nice to meet you” as an afterthought.  
  
“You must be that friend Black Widow mentioned. I had expected more like, an adult” Skye chuckles lightly of her own statement, letting her fingers slightly over the keyboard with ease. Pretty each key with confidence.  
  
“Uh” Peter sighs, “Friend is a big word. More like, recruit. Yeah, yeah that sounds about right”.  
  
Skye gives with a look of disbelief, “Didn’t know Avengers went around recruiting random kids. What does she need your help with anyways?”.  
  
“I… Uhm” Peter freezes, his cheeks probably blushing as he meets Skye’s, brown, soft eyes for the first time. His heart rate picks up. What does he say, how does he explain without giving his identity away? How? Where? Where? “First, the… uh… mission is classified” Skye’s eyes goes dark at that, “Secondly, I, uh… my parents used to work for s-s-shield”, the last part comes out unsure and with a clear stutter that probably gives his lie away. Even, if it isn’t really a lie. But it is, at the same time in some weird, complicated way.  
  
“Most be high ranking agents then, for Black Widow and Coulson to know about them. Right? Must have been awesome to grow up with people like that. No secrets or hidden information” Skye says distantly, eyes flickering over her screen, but Peter get’s a deep sense in his gut that Skye isn’t really focusing on her computer anymore. That it’s all a faced she has set up.  
  
“I don’t remember them actually” Peter states, “Didn’t even know about their past till Coulson told me, today. Less than an hour ago” he sighs, learning in over the lab table, “Until then I always just though their death was a terrible accident”.  
  
Skye looks up at that, her lips partly parted. Like she wants to say something, ask something, looking for the right words. Her eyes look so, full of emotions for a moment and then, her voice small, tiny as she speaks. “I don’t know my parents either. That’s part of why I joined shield, and attempt to figure out something more about them, cause all I had was an old shield file” she huffs out a breath, “Redacted”. There’s an anger in the last word.  
  
“Why stick around with shield then?” Peter asks, his curiosity catching him of guard as he slams his hands over his mouth, feeling incredible stupid for even asking.  
  
Skye doesn’t seem to mind and brushes it off with a kind, heartwarming smile. “Guess I found a family in the team, somewhere along the way” she explains “I’m training to become a field agent, Grant Ward is my supervising officer. I’m still hoping to figure out more, someday. But for now, I’m good. I’m home”.  
  
“I know that feeling” Peter smiles back, “My Uncle Ben and Aunt my took me in”. Ben’s names sting in his mouth as he says it, his breath getting stuck in his throat. It’s the first time in over eight months that he says that man out loud, and it hurt just as much as the day it happened.  
  
The gun shot still echoes in his head at night, waking him up from that repeated nightmare.  
  
Over and over again. No breaks.  
  
And he finds himself back there, in that mostly empty street. Ben’s arms around him as he sobs into his uncle’s soft sweater. His backpack heavy over his shoulders.  
  
He calls himself a monster, a mistake, a problem. And Ben tells him otherwise.  
  
Ben reminds him of all the good he’s done. Saving that kitten from a tree when he was a kid, about the boy in the apartment next door that wouldn’t have gotten through middle school if Peter hadn’t helped him with math. He reminds of that he and May is proud he got into midtown high, and that he’s smart. That the whole world is waiting for him.  
  
He remembers walking back towards the car hand in hand.  
  
He remembers the blood, soaking his hands as he kneels by Ben’s side. Screaming for help as the top of his lungs, begging for Ben to stay awake. The sirens coming closer and closer.  
  
Ben doesn’t make it.  
  
Sometimes, Peter plays that night through his head over and over again. Sometimes, Peter imagens what Ben would have said if Peter had revealed his powers.  
  
Sometimes Ben gets angry. Sometimes Ben gets proud.  
  
He always reminds Peter… that with great power comes-  
  
He snaps out of it as fast as he snaps into it in the first place. Skye is standing by his side now, looking worried and she reaches out attempting to place a ground hand on his shoulder. But Peter flinches away from her touch. The chair slipping underneath him as the awkward jerk, and before Peter knows he falls backwards, head slamming down into the lab floor. His vision blurry.  
  
The sound of glass that breaks, followed by the cold feeling of the webbing as it glues him to the lab floor makes Peter’s gut twist. ‘Dammit’.  
  
He pushes himself up as far as he can get, Fitz and Jemma keep to the background but is clearly alert now that they might need to help out.  
  
“Could you grab the small bottle in front pocket of my backpack?” Peter points towards where he has placed it when he started working. And Skye does without a question, helping him with applying the solvent to the webbing. Waiting for it to dissolve.  
  
“That’s... but that means… You’re Spider-man!” Skye breaths out loudly, her face partly shocked and partly amazed as she slumps down on the floor next to Peter, “That’s why Black Widow needs you! Your like, a total superhero. Fighting bad guys and locking them up. Saving people”.  
  
A deep part of Peter swears under his breath that he shouldn’t have worked on the web fluid in an open area. So much for keeping his identity hidden. While another part of him reminds himself, that this isn’t the worst place it could have happened and so, he confirms it. “I am. But you can’t tell anyone, I. I can’t put my friends in danger”.  
  
“Of course, not” Sky reassures him with a laugh, “I would never. I just, need to know something. What’s it like, having those powers, abilities? I mean, cause it’s you right, not just the suit?”.  
  
Peter shrugs, “I don’t know. Scary at first, I guess. Got normal kind of fast though. I… I don’t really think about what it’s like having these powers. I just… I… with great powers comes-“.  
  
He’s about to say that one thing Ben always reminds him, when Skye cuts in. “a ton of weird crap that you are not prepared to deal with?”.  
  
“No!” Peter shakes his head, “It’s not about the powers… the powers are just, there. I guess. It’s more… with great power comes great responsibility. I spend so much time in the street, helping other that I don’t really have time to worry about what it’s really like having these powers”.  
  
As the webbing finally dissolves Skye gets to her feet, reaching a handout towards Peter. Smiling kindly to him, in a way that makes his heart melt in his chest. “Big words for a kid”.  
  
Peter is ready to take Skye hand and get to his feet, pretending that this has never happened. Skye’s eyes as smiling at him with such friendliness that Peter can’t do anything but trust her, not a second of hesitation. And for a silent moment it’s like his sense’s finally dies down. Like he’s safe. And so, his fingers meet Skye’s hand. Her soft skin, smooth. As their skin make contact to each other, it’s like a flash. Electricity running through their fingers, each of them jerking backwards. Skye stumbles, but catches herself on the table, and Peter finds himself back against a table leg. Watching as Skye’s face goes from the normal soft white to a deep embarrassed red as her eyes flicker away. Peter’s own face probably looks much that same.  
  
Peter get’s to his feet without a helping hand, Skye suddenly turning to shy as she hides behind her computer. Seeking into her own world.  
  
The lab falls into an awkward silence as Peter cleans up the rest of the web fluid. Fitz and Jemma giving a helping hand, whispering in hushed voices, so low that Peter can’t hear it. And when their done the two scientist begs Peter to shows him the webbing and web-shooters. So, he does.  
  
Fitz pocks and twist and turns, as he goes over every inch of the metal. While Jemma takes notes, and edits parts of Peter current formula.  
  
He feels Skye’s eyes rest on his back when he’s focused over the table next to Fitz. But as he looks over towards her, her head wipes away, the red color stay prominent in her cheeks.  
  
Peter wonders if this is what loves at first sight is all about.  
  
He pushes that though away, though. After today, he’ll never see Skye again.  
  
Probably.  
  
Maybe, just maybe… Peter’s eyes linger on Skye as she works.  
  
Maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I might, suck at writing love scene. But their nerds, it's supposed to be awkward, right?

**Author's Note:**

> Yes... I started something new without finishing up the old one. Kill me all you want :P


End file.
